


Power

by Skylark42



Series: when it's love if it's not rough it isn't fun [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Asexual Raphael Santiago, Dom Raphael Santiago, Dom/sub, M/M, Spanking, Sub Simon Lewis, raphael has a weird relationship with sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-14 06:46:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19267954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skylark42/pseuds/Skylark42
Summary: He uses sex sparingly, as a tool.  There's something thrilling in the seduction, something akin to a hunt.  The influence it wields is infinite, the control it affords is too inciting to pass up.  The physical mechanics of it all are secondary.  What he likes, what he really likes, is the power.





	Power

 

There wasn't a word for what he was growing up.

 

All the other boys he ran around with in the neighborhood had started getting interested in girls, would talk on and on about their looks. He hadn't cared much himself about eyeing the swell of a girl's breasts under her sweater, or admiring the line of her legs. He could appreciate beauty as well as anyone, but it never pulled the same reaction out of him.

 

Sex wasn't something he considered, not really, until he saw the sway it held over people. He remembers a girl who lived on his block, who always wore her skirts just a little too short, her shirts a little too tight. She'd smile and have them eating out of her hand. 'Do me a favor' she'd say, and it would be done.

 

He died before he ever fucked someone. He did it out of curiosity, to see what all the fuss was about. It wasn't all it was cracked up to be, but it wasn't all bad. He'd liked the way the woman had chanted his name with the desperation of a prayer, the way she had said please. He liked how he asked 'can I-' and she'd said 'anything' before he could finish the question.

 

Her blood tasted sweeter after she came.

 

So now, he uses it sparingly, as a tool. There's something thrilling in the seduction, something akin to a hunt. The influence it wields is infinite, the control it affords is too inciting to pass up. The physical mechanics of it all are secondary. What he likes, what he really likes, is the _power_. Someone once said that everything was about sex, except sex; sex was about power. Raphael concedes that he was half right.

 

He certainly feels powerful now, with Simon spread over his lap, all but crying, “Please, please, I can't-”

 

“You can,” he says, landing a hard smack on his bare bottom. Simon jerks and cries out, tears welling in his eyes. His hips twitch and he groans long and low when his cock brushes against Raphael's leg. When he tries to grind against it Raphael winds a hand through his hair and snaps his head back. “Did I give you permission?”

 

“No.”

 

Raphael deals another blow, harder this time, “No, what?”

 

“No sir,” Simon corrects. He's trembling now, desperate and aching. Raphael slides his fingers back inside him and Simon chokes back a sob. He's been fingering him for the better part of an hour, getting him too the edge but refusing to let him go over. It feels a bit cruel; Simon is new to this life, his body still adjusting to the amplified feeling of being one of the undead. But perhaps cruelty is what Simon needs; he refuses to bend, to settle into his new lifestyle so Raphael will have to break him.

 

“Please, please, please,” Simon chants.

 

He has a certain soft spot for Simon, one Raphael is well aware he needs to squash before it blooms into something dangerous. But it's a problem for another day, now he'll deal with the one on hand. Or in lap, as it were. “Do you think you deserve to come?”

 

Simon bites his lip and nods his head frantically, “Yes, please, I'll be good, I'll be so good, I'll..”

 

He breaks off into a mewl when Raphael wraps a hand around him and leisurely strokes. It's soft, barely there pressure, not nearly enough and Simon nearly starts to cry again. “Raphael, I need-”

 

Raphael peers down at Simon's face, at the tears clinging to his long lashes and decides to show mercy. He tightens his grip and the noise Simon releases is filthy. He barely has to move his hand, Simon starts bucking into him so desperately, saying his name like a prayer, like a benediction. He comes saying Raphael's name like it's something holy, like a man brought to salvation.

 

And for a moment, brief and fleeting, Simon is entirely and utterly his.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments give me life


End file.
